Everything You've Taught Me
by LaAzevedo
Summary: Collection of stories about Sergio and Raquel, mostly One Shots. Enjoy!
1. Moondance

"**MOONDANCE"**

Raquel found Sergio outside, seating by the beach, bare chested and barefoot underneath the moonlight. Staring at the crashing of the waves, it seemed as if the ocean held all answers to the overthinking going on inside that brilliant mind of his.

He'd sneaked out little after dinner, when she'd been too enthralled in a conversation with Ailyn, the kind Filipina woman he'd hired to help with them with house chores, to properly notice his escape. Once she'd noticed his absence, though, Raquel immediately knew where he'd go— in this pacific island of theirs, there weren't many places to run off to, after all.

She'd left her mother to continue chatting with Ailyn from where she knit by the kitchen table, calm and chatty as the woman rarely was these days. They discovered the sound of one of Sergio's old classic records would have a surprisingly soothing effect over Marivi, and it now played softly at the background as Raquel left the room, travelling upstairs to found Paula already tucked in bed. The little girl flipped curiously through the pages of one of the books Sergio had purchased for her birthday, a month ago, and once her mother sat by her side, Paula filled her ears with excited babble over Harry Potter's newest adventures until finally being convinced into turning the lights off and going to sleep. Smiling at her small form underneath the sheets, Raquel had left a crack of her daughter's door open, so that she'd have that little bit of light coming inside the room the way experience taught her it'd make her feel safer, although the talk around bedtime these days was that _nine_ was too grown up to be afraid of silly monsters anymore.

Then, and only then, Raquel went out in search of the complex, annoyingly withdrawn man she turned out to love— supposing she'd given him the time alone he seemed to need to think, by then.

Their living room double doors opened to a breathtaking view of the ocean, and in specially hot days they'd taken a habit off setting in the comfortable net outside and watching as Paula ran around in the sand with her new Palawan friends. She and Sergio would talk about nothing and everything, swinging pleasantly in the arms of one another while exchanging the silliest smiles, between caresses and kisses that'd leave them both needing and turned on, although much too comfortable with just snuggling innocently in the breeze to move inside and _do_ something about it, at the same time. Their touching would be torturing, but of the best, slow-burning and arousing sort of kind— leaving both flustered and breathless afterwards, often clinging onto one another like high schoolers until the time they'd be alone again would come.

This night, Raquel stood by the doorway while bracing herself against the chilling ocean breeze coming in, her eyes wandering briefly until she found Sergio's familiar form, his slean shoulders bared outside in the cold, although he remained unflinching in face of the waves constantly licking his legs. Feeling a wave of sadness wash over her at how lonely he seemed, she sighed, and without further hesitation started making her way toward him.

Her feet dug into the cool sand, goosebumps lifting all over her arms once she reached the spot where he sat, pushing her wavering hair out of her eyes to stare down at him. Cross-legged, Sergio had his elbows over his knees, not only his jeans soaked by the come and go of the ocean but all the rest of himself, as well. With water drops still glimmering in his skin and his hair damp, glued to his neck, it was clear he went for a night time swim in the freezing cold waters ahead— and, judging by his t-shirt thrown soaked in the sand by his side, not so long ago.

He was clearly freezing, the muscles of his back coiled and tensed, making something ferocious inside Raquel rise, wanting nothing but to wrap herself around him and handle him all the warmth she had. Even so, she held back, finding a fragility in his posture that told her he might recoil, in case she'd do so. And even though her approach hadn't been silent, at all, Sergio didn't seem to notice her presence there until she came to sit by his side, crossed legs underneath her summer dress to mimic his own, her knee coming to brush slightly at his.

At her touch, Sergio straightened suddenly as if struck by electricity, his eyes raising to her face as hers lowered, to find the whiskey glass half filled with wine he cradled between his hands.

He'd rarely drink, unless if to make her company, and something about the fact he found more comfort at the bottom of a glass tonight made her feel all sorts of angry and sad. But looking inside his eyes, stripped off his glasses for the obvious risk of losing them underwater, Raquel found how unsurprisingly sober he was, for despite knowing how this meticulous man she came to know could oddly turn unpredictable sometimes, she also knew he'd never be reckless to the point of entering the ocean drunk off his ass.

No, this… this sounded more like something _she'd_ do, being definitely the impulsive one out of both. The thought made Raquel smile at him, soft and a little bittersweet, wishing deep down she'd muster just enough reasoning to help him cope with whatever bothered him today, exactly the way she knew he'd do for her anytime her feelings made her go a little nuts.

"I really made you a rebel with this swimming in your clothes thing, huh?" she murmurs, tilting her head to the ocean with her smile widening, teasingly "I mean, it's a little late to be freezing my butt out there, but you could've called me to join, no? I can be a little rebel too…"

"Just a _little,_ yes, Inspectora?" Sergio's eyes crinkled as he smiled, shortly and awkwardly, his head ducking at his lap to avoid eye contact "I, well, I wasn't exactly planning on doing it, until… until I-I sort of… Was already there, water on my waist." he gestured nervously, his hand making as if to push the glasses that weren't there back to the top of his nose "I, you see, I-I had a couple more of these before," he lifts his glass, swirling the wine "and then I suppose the alcohol must've made me think I wanted to get rid of something very badly, for I threw it at the waves. But as soon as I saw it floating away I regretted it, and let's just say I had to dive in and fish it back on myself…" he shook his head, shyly, looking at her through his lashes with a shrug and a self-deprecating smirk "Not my finest moment, so I'm glad you weren't here to see me destroying the beauty of fully-clothed swimming so pathetically, indeed."

Raquel's smile faded as he spoke. Frowning, not liking the look in his eyes, she forgot the space she intended on giving him and reached to grab hold of one of his hands in hers, bringing it to her lap. Immediately she realized her instinct to be right, for Sergio's cold fingers squeezed hers quite frantically, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, sort of leaning forward towards her, his eyes sparkling in the reflection the moon provided on the waves.

_Oh, my love._

"Sergio, did you get rid of Andrés' watch?"

His features twitched, a grimace of shame, and he nodded "_Tried."_ his voice was a whisper, that he drowned inside his glass in a nervous gulp of wine. Then, he shook his head, wiping clumsily a drop of water that slid from somewhere around the bridge of his nose, then down his cheek "I-I, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, Raquel. What damn good would've come out of getting rid of the only thing my brother has left me…" he sighed, tremulously, scoffing at himself "My _father's_ watch, Raquel. This old contraption he had restored for me because I'd refuse putting it aside in twenty years, all of it so that I'd have it in time before the heist… so that I'd have _'a second to remind our reasons'_ on me, he said." Sergio's whole face scrunched, as if some sort of physical pain cut him from the inside "Same damn thing Dad told me the day he left to die, leaving me this watch so I'd have a piece of him, and since then it's become… It's become this piece of Andrés and that bastard smile of his as well, Raquel, and now it won't probably even work anymore…" he closes his eyes shut, trembling "I-I'm such an _idiot-_"

"Hey." Raquel scooted closer to him, passing her arms through his, her chin propped on his shoulder as she tilted her head backwards to meet his eyes "Only I can call my boyfriend that, you hear me?" sighing, she asked softly "Where is it?"

"Over my shirt." Sergio nodded towards it, and Raquel turned to reach for it. Turning the simple, delicate watch she'd only seen him take off to sleep over in her hands, Raquel saw how he'd attempt to dried it, although droplets of water had inevitably leaked inside it as she tapped its glass, its hands remaining frozen, still marking the same time from about an hour ago. The engraved quote _"a second to remind your reasons" _shone as she ran her thumb softly over the back of it.

"We'll ask Aylin if she knows any watchmaker in the village to take a look at it later." she tells him, turning his hand over to set the watch firmly around his wrist, back where it belonged, planting a soft kiss to his palm before resting their joined hands back over her thigh again "But even if it can't be fixed, it doesn't matter." she entwined their fingers, squeezed his hand "I'm sure your brother wouldn't care, for he gave it to you so that you'd keep on you as a reminder of himself and your father, not as just one more gift. What matters, _carinõ_, is that it's become important enough for you to make you dive into the ocean at night just to retrieve it back."

Leaning her cheek to his arm while watching him mull over her words, she felt how cold and damp his skin felt, how he'd punished himself by seating there and letting shivers consume his exposed chest until now.

"Berlim was…" Sergio shook his head, his voice cracking "Sometimes reminding him is… difficult, complicated. I kept… looking at it, today, over and over, and, I-I don't know, Raquel…" he gulped, turning the watch anxiously around his wrist " It was hard not to replay his death over and over, I suppose, just at the sight of this. It felt simply so… revolting, _unfair._ Then next thing I new, I'd already launched it at the waves. And at first… at first it made me feel so damn _relieved_ you wouldn't believe it, Raquel. So, so much." his tone was raspy, strangled, and he squeezed her hand so firmly it hurt "Until I realised, realised… I couldn't. Shouldn't. Immediately, it was as if this stone-shaped weight settled inside me, heavying me all over, a hundred pounds over my shoulders. It made me _regret,_ then go after after it like the moron I am, so fucking ashamed and hoping I could somehow grasp his memory back-"

"Shhhh." Her heart ached as she attempted a smile at him, rubbing his arm up and down in attempts of lending him a little of her warmth, at least. Feeling her own eyes filling at the sight of Sergio's shining ones, Raquel cradled his face in her hands, blinking her own tears away "You don't have to feel ashamed, you hear me? It's okay for you not to want to suffer nor carry willingly reminders of your losses around, Sergio. Means you're human. Means it's normal for you to want to run away from bad, painful memories, sometimes. It's perfectly okay…"

Sergio rested his forehead to hers, eyes closed, pulling Raquel to his chest as a tremulous gasp escaped his lips. She tried to keep her eyes open and watching him, but it was proven impossible as Sergio nuzzled his nose to hers, lips brushing softly against her cheek before he buried his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, releasing what it seemed to be a lifetime held breath, warm and heartfelt, against her skin.

Her eyes drifting closed, Raquel hugged him back and let him drown his sorrow inside her arms.

Very soon this morning, soon as the sun peeked at the horizon, she'd woken up suddenly and for no apparent reason to find herself alone in their bed. Missing the usual feel of Sergio's arms wrapped around herself, she'd sat and turned around to see where he'd went, finding his familiar form observing the sunrise by himself at the beach outside. Knowing the occurrence of his nightmares and troubled sleep the past few days very well by then, for she was the one to comfort him and witness him toss and turn, calling out his brother's name in the night, Raquel assumed he needed to clear his head off but didn't want to wake her up.

Nevertheless, she went after him. And wrapped her arms around him from behind as soon as she was close enough, hands sliding to his chest as she glued herself against his back, being able to feel the deep intake of air he took as soon he felt her touch. She'd earned herself a weak smile, Sergio's larger hands finding and grasping hers thankfully as she hugged him tighter, wishing to able to send all his troubles away with something as simple as her presence, alone. Together they stood, until sun rays colored the sand by their bare feet, orange glowing and outlining their joined bodies in soft warmth.

And then Raquel pulled him back towards the house, Sergio following willingly, wrapping himself all around her in return. Soon they no longer walked, but stumbled upon their unmade bed, falling over the mattress together amidst Sergio's pouring ticklish kisses all over her neck and shoulders and Raquel's breathless, _relieved_ laughing out loud.

Their lovemaking was rushed and intense, a frantic ripping of clothes and ablazing hands exploring exposed skin, until Sergio's hips furiously met hers, coaxing shared gasps of relief out of both. Raquel's pent up desire for his touch made her dig scratches with her nails into his back, such was her pleasure, coaxing him into moving, _harder, faster,_ deepest as possible within every thrust inside her until they both reached a sudden, toe-curling climax almost at the same time. Collapsing above her, Sergio's arms enclosured Raquel in a warm cage in which she immediately melted, his lips pressed against the pulsing hollow of her throat as they both struggled to catch their breath. She smiled in contentment, although briefly, once she noticed how tense and still he rested inside her embrace, silent even as she drew lazy shapes over his back with her fingertips, trying to get some actual words out of his mouth to express what had tormented him so much during the night.

Then, finally, as she felt moisture where his cheek had come to rest right above her heart, Sergio breathed his confession in a harsh whisper "He'd been forty-six today."

And without further words needed, with her heart _sinking_, Raquel understood. It torn her how little there was she could actually do for him, but to hug him and feel his pain and let him hold onto her, caressing his hair as his silent tears slid between her breasts.

She'd never got to meet Andrés, besides for that brief and mostly unpleasant encounter with him as Berlim back at the heist, but that morning she and Sergio both fell asleep feeling deeply for his loss at heart.

When she'd woken up again, was to the strong smell of Sergio's cologne filling her senses, once during their sleep he apparently had turned on his side and crushed her to himself at some point, entangling his limbs around her in a death grip. Raquel's face glued to his neck, for she honestly felt hotter within the second against his warm body, but soon she found out she didn't bother much, when it was clear by his slow heartbeats Sergio felt deeply comforted and at peace in their sweaty embrace. She was, in fact, just starting to doze off again, lulled by the sound of his regular breathing, when he released her a bit, clearly awake, to cradle her face in his hands and place a lingering kiss on her lips.

"Good morning." he'd said, smiling, and with that Raquel thought— wanted to believe— his troubled thoughts had ceased tormenting him, at least for today.

And true to his best abilities of putting up a facade, Sergio managed to convince her pretty well with another kiss and the promise of having breakfast ready for her downstairs, before he'd retrieve his glasses by the nightstand and left her hugging a pillow in lieu of his body, to disappear inside their bathroom displaying a relaxed smile on his face. Through the rest of the day, he never mentioned his brother nor the sorrow he'd expressed freely in her arms that morning again.

Raquel never approached the subject either, knowing that Sergio was bound to shyness and embarrassment if pushed into expressing himself prematurely, especially when the control freak inside him reacted so poorly upon having his emotions on check. And so she went along with his good humor and set about watching him closely, instead.

She laughed along Aylin and her mother's silly conversation topics at the breakfast table while accepting the coffee mug he handled her with a quick peck on the lips, watching him with the same moved gratitude of every day as he walked around her chair to deliver Paula's plate first, a smile opening on his face as the little girl approved soundly of her chocolate chips and bunny-shaped pancakes made out of scratch. Raquel even sneaked by the old piano Sergio had pushed against a corner in their living room, later, leaning onto the instrument in silent awe to observe him coaxing her daughter's enthusiasm into actually sitting and learning a few clumsy notes under his patient guidance. Unsurprisingly, she'd almost embarrassed herself by actually tearing up once Paula eagerly started playing the song they've been practicing for about two months now, Sergio's encouraging murmurs making her little girl smile proudly, seemingly suddenly so attentively and mature Raquel wanted nothing but to hug her tightly and never let her grow up.

But, above all, Raquel felt as if she could actually weep if any of them lifted their eyes from the keys long enough to acknowledge her presence there. Because _family _was the only word she could think of to describe Sergio's hand on Paula's shoulder and the little girl's clear admirance upon him every time he'd smile approvingly when she'd hit the right notes— the two halves of her heart, merging together into actually loving and caring for each other right there before her eyes.

Not for the first time since she'd brought her family to live in Palawan, Raquel felt deeply thankful for Sergio's willingness into making them a part of his life as well. He was such a different man here amongst them, and little by little she saw how he'd started to reveal new sides of his personality just by interacting with them. He no longer was the Professor nor Salva to her, but Sergio instead, a junction of both personalities into this man worth so much _more_ Raquel could see both her daughter and mother starting to discover— and falling in love— for his true self as well.

Right now, being hugged and hugging him equally fiercely back, Raquel wished their newfound love could be enough balsam to relieve the lost of his loved ones somehow. Almost as if sensing her worry, she felt Sergio's chest expand against hers as he sighed very deeply, cupping the back of her head with both hands before finally releasing her, pulling back. She found pain still there in his face, but his eyes were clear once again, albeit intense, his attention solely focused on her in a way that made Raquel's stomach flutter in unexpected butterflies.

"We should get back inside." he whispered, his features softer, tender, his hands moving to rub her upper arms "You're starting to freeze."

"_You_ are the only one freezing here, Professor." deciding they've loathed over sadness enough for today already, Raquel opened a mischievous smirk at him. Smitten, she stole his glass of wine for herself and tossed her head back, emptying it in two gulps. Licking her lips, she left it behind on the sand, very much enjoying the way Sergio's pupils dilated as he watched her, amused.

"I've learned a long time ago that the best way to warm up is being creative." she said, then leaned in for a kiss Sergio returned so hungrily she moaned against his mouth, coaxing a frustrated groan out of him as soon as she pulled back, smiling, and giggling got to her feet "You can get your old man's ass back inside later, 'cause right now you owe me a dance, Marquina." she offered him her hands "Moondance is still my top ten Van Morrison favorite, so if you could, you know, get yourself moving while the moon is still out, that'd be great."

"They'll have to get this engraved on my tombstone." Sergio shook his head, smiling "Dead by Raquel Murillo's hands. Poor man couldn't say no, they'll say."

And he grabbed her hands, stood up, resting his own hands around her waist to nuzzle her neck, feeling finally brought out of his own head there against her, happy and _alive_.

"Funny. Last night it seemed I was handling you just fine, no?" Raquel whispered by his ear, putting her arms around his neck.

Sergio laughed into her hair "Oh, you've got low tactics, Inspectora. Very low."

"Anything's fair in love and negotiation, Professor. I didn't invent that."

"Wrong quote. Great point, though." he whispered, then nibbled her ear, chuckling when she gasped and pushed her hips automatically against his.

"W-Why aren't we moving?" Raquel stuttered, actually a bit flushed "Dancing and standing aren't the same thing, you know."

"Oh, I do." Sergio took one of her hands in his, pulled her closer and pushed back to beam a smug smirk at her "I told you before I never enjoyed dancing, but I did grow up with Andrés by my side, you know. He'd coax me into waltzing him more times than I'd like to admit, and I'll let you know I happened to get very good at it, Murillo."

He winked at her and started swaying on his feet, gently guiding her along. Unable to stop herself, Raquel smiled wide, gasping and laughing in delight as Sergio unexpectedly spun her around, bringing her breathlessly back to his chest with a laugh of his own.

"You're not so bad, I admit it." she breathed against his ear, heartbeats happily pounding, her chin over his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. Closing her eyes, she wished they could spend the whole night like this, blissful and lost in their own world.

"Well, I was taught well." Sergio spun them in lazy circles, putting her messy hair behind her ear "My brother would come back from the dead just to wack me on the head if I'd embarrass myself in front of a pretty girl like you, Inspectora."

"Pretty girl, huh?"

"Yes, very pretty. Hot, too. Naughty. And oh, so horny sometimes…"

She slapped him playfully on the chest.

"That's a good comment to reflect about on the couch, you know."

"You think? 'Cause I think some punishing sex would teach me a better lesson-"

She silenced him with a kiss, one that escalated very quickly, up until they stopped swaying to devour each other's mouths, breathing loudly and eating one another's moans, the freezing ocean breeze ignored around them once hands caressed and burned every bit of exposed skin there was to be touched. Sergio was almost lifting off her feet when Raquel pulled back, breathlessly, resisting the need to wrap her legs around his waist.

"Let's get back inside."

"But I thought you wanted a dance first." Sergio murmured, showering her jaw line in languid kisses "I'm was feeling rather fond of this new dancing style, to be honest…"

"Sergio." Raquel protested, faintly and barely audible as her eyes tended to roll every time his mouth touched her skin "_Carinõ_, I'd love to, but if we keep dancing with your hands wandering in this pace, soon enough both Ailyn and my mother will be able to spot my bare ass from all the way inside the house." she wrinkled her nose, reminding a few near-misses in her teenage days "And trust me, she wouldn't let us hear the end of it anytime soon…"

"Alright, alright. Back inside." Sergio sighed, releasing her to gather his shirt from where he'd left it in the sand and hurry back to her side so fast Raquel giggled, before he grabbed her hand and pulled them to the house "Let's go. Don't stop or make eye contact, or else they'll make questions!"

His seriousness made her laugh harder as they entered the house, Sergio pulling her behind himself like a man on a mission. They crossed the living room and went for the stairs like teenagers on a secret relationship, sneaking into the bedroom instead of out of it, while hoping the women inside the kitchen wouldn't catch them on sight. Her mother's sharp instincts, however, were not to be underestimated, and soon they heard her shout:

"Don't forget to dry yourselves, otherwise you'll catch a cold!"

Laughing at Sergio's deer on the highlights looks, Raquel called back "Don't worry, Mamá!"

As she heard Marivi's and Aylin's amused laughter downstairs, Raquel guided a flustered Sergio towards their room, thinking a cold wouldn't be a price so high to pay for all she could've expected from a dance under the moonlight with the man she loved and _more._


	2. Of Paper Hearts and Other Things

**OF PAPER HEARTS AND OTHER THINGS**

_Raquel couldn't sleep._

She'd been in bed for the best of an hour now, tossing and turning without success, while the annoying clock by her nightstand mocked her brightly at every marked second passed she didn't catch a wink. Sighing, annoyed, she finally turned on her back and gave up, throwing the covers aside to stare at the fan spinning lazily on the ceiling above her head with a scoff.

She could hear the murmur of their conversation filling their house with noise, clearly still ongoing in the living room right now.

Sergio's group of robbers, _la banda_ she'd first met by arrest pictures and crime records only, with the Dalí masks in lieu of real faces and personalities, was currently spread around their dining table, talking and laughing like any ordinary group of friends would. She'd left them to their cheap drinks and strange conversation topics earlier, refusing Sergio's offer to follow with a thin smile, because despite _knowing _deep down this day would inevitably come like he'd warn her many times over, right then Raquel felt so overwhelmed at the sight of these people she'd once aimed to put behind bars she felt like she could easily scream if she stayed in their presence any longer. She needed time to think, to be alone, to process everything before starting to see that situation as normal, somehow.

And, true to her request, quite likely guessing how she felt as well, Sergio hadn't come to bed until now. Raquel wasn't exactly annoyed at him because of this, but she _was_ annoyed indeed, considering this small, _petty_ side of her wanted nothing but to kick all these strangers out, lock Sergio with her inside this bedroom while she still could wrap herself around him, and claim him as _hers,_ and hers alone, in face of the change they dropped to their doorstep without notice. This wasn't jealousy per say, she knew… Raquel wanted to support Sergio on his decision, of course, and that being said she'd stand by his side till the end like she'd promised, undoubtedly so. No way she'd allow him coax her into staying behind like he'd probably attempt sometime in the future, not when she'd finally manage to grab hold of him once again. Aside the overall strangeness she felt, she'd never _compete_ for Sergio's loyalty with his friends either, even if meant feeling unwanted amongst them.

But somewhere deep down, embarrassing as it was, Raquel was _scared._ Sick of her stomach, she'd overthinked this subject so many times already it was no doubt she lost her sleep.

Ironically, what frightened her the most wasn't the prospect of what they were about to do. Deliberately going back within justice's reach to commit an even _bigger_ crime with a bounty for their heads all over Spain, with the unforeseen risks she knew Sergio would lose nights of sleep without end trying to foresee somehow… No, Raquel actually felt prepared for that, as far as anyone could, for she'd always been a fighter at heart. She thought she could handle the pressure, too, having almost twenty years in law enforcement as baggage...

No, what scared Raquel the most was the way they _looked_ at him. At Sergio. Tokyo, Nairóbi, Denver, Helsinki, Estocolmo, all of them… a group of wanted criminals sitting there, side by side, shockingly different people except for the way they all looked equally enthralled by Sergio whenever he'd open his mouth. How intensely they seemed to _look up_ at him, all of them, like actual students during class. As if they were waiting for all the answers to their problems to be solved by a word of his, somehow— which they probably were.

Raquel saw how, just by sitting there in their living room across of them, Sergio could no longer be the man she loved, only, but El Profesor instead, under their eyes. Their leader, the one supposed to make sure everything would be fine, and _everyone_ involved would walk away free and safe by the end of this. Responsible for rescuing Rio, for mastering the perfect plan twice with less than half the time he had two years ago, for making sure they'd succeed once again in the end… and _more_, no doubt, if it'd come down to it.

And just by watching Sergio's behavior, Raquel felt certain he'd already put all of their hopes upon himself as well, just as _fiercely_ and without the need of them ever asking him to, probably as soon as he called them over to Palawan with a crazy rescue mission in mind. He was a man used to bearing responsibilities all by himself, and being one of the same kind, Raquel knew he'd never admit how much it'd cost him to do so out loud.

El Profesor was back to lead his people, and it _terrified_ Raquel what he'd be willing to sacrifice to protect them as well.

And what for?, she asked herself. For this group of strangers, who couldn't do as much as to care for their own safety? For this reckless young man that risked everything, _everyone,_ just to hold onto his stupid love story? For his girlfriend, a timed bomb ready to explode their plan to bits like several times in the previous heist?

Sergio was ready to sacrifice their peace, clearly, but for _what?_

_Family,_ she remembered him saying back then. The night of the day she came to find him here in Palawan, laying together in this very same bed with their limbs entangled so tightly there was no telling where one's body started and the other's ended, Sergio told her everything there was to know about the heist that brought them to meet each other, everything he'd lie to protect back then. He told her why, and then about his father, the _real_ version of the cider story where a sick little boy's life hung on a thin thread that wavered and threatened to snap every time his father would enter a new bank… he told her about the others, about the time they lived and planned together, and how he'd never intended to but started to think of each of these strangers as his family in no time, somehow.

This time, Sergio was doing it for his family. His, and… And _hers,_ now, too, Raquel realized with a sigh. There was no point fighting it, she supposed. Not when everything Sergio loved had an habit of taking little bits of space within her heart so thoroughly, in no time. Not when she couldn't bear seeing him hurt, not when she knew his guilt set the deepest roots and charged the higher of prices...

Not when, she was sure, this was partially for his brother as well.

With a wave of deep sadness washing over her body at the thought, Raquel heard a knock on the door. Two familiar raps, hesitant, and then she turned on her side to see the doorknob turning as the door opened inside, just a creak to reveal Sergio's glasses and beard peeking in to check if she was still awake.

Seeing that she was, in fact, wide awake in her t-shirt and panties only, bare legs and messy hair in evidence, Sergio's face broke into a smile, before he stepped in and closed the door behind his back. This time Raquel heard the click of the lock before he came up to her, approving his thought with a languid smirk curving her lips.

As he came to seat over the mattress, she curled her legs to fit better around his body, sighing in contentment once he caressed his fingers through her hair, smiling down at her.

"Did you have fun?"

Sergio sighed, pushing his glasses to the top of his nose "Define fun. When I left, a bottle of moonshine Helsinki produced out of nowhere was passing around, while he and Nairobi entered a heated discussion over which one of them actually managed to sleep with a legend called, and I'm paraphrasing, _'Nine-Inches-Joe"_ in a night they were both particularly drunk…"

Raquel laughed, throwing her head back "No wonder you ran away."

"I believe I might have left one or two burnt footprint marks on the floor behind my escape, yes." Sergio smiles, putting a loose lock of hair behind her ear "I did need the time to think, though, and it wasn't that bad of a view on the porch tonight… the waves wild, almost alive underneath moonlight. You'd enjoy seeing it."

Raquel pursed her lips, tapping his knee "But then you wouldn't be able to think much, no?"

Sergio's eyes crinkled as his smile widened, his hand sneaking up her bare tight "You do make for a pleasant distraction, indeed. One I'd be ashamed to ignore over revising the details of our plan, no doubt."

Raquel sighed, propping herself in one elbow "I thought we agreed on no overthinking the detailing until we'd get out of the island. You told me there was no doing it without Andrés' old partner, Palermo, right? So losing what could've been, at least, an _entertaining_ time on bed since sleeping is clearly off the table… was _kind of_ stupid coming from a so called mastermind as you are." she rested her cheek to his leg, eyebrows raised at him " Don't you think, _Profesor_?"

"Ah, well…" he hid his grin behind adjusting his glasses again "When you put it like that, _Inspectora…"_

Smirking, she tugged at his hand, leaning back on the mattress with intentions of pulling him along "Then come. We still have time to make up for it."

Sergio smiled, letting Raquel guide him to come hovering right above her, both his hands propped by the sides of her head as she reached a hand to remove his glasses gently, setting them carefully by the nightstand. Turning at him with a responding smirk, she gasped a little when his legs straddled her around the hips, making as so she'd be completely at his mercy, trapped underneath him, in a manner that _kind of_ made her think she wouldn't bother much if at some point he'd move on to restraining her wrists— or _at all_, actually, for the matter.

"You sure you didn't share a little of that moonshine, Marquina?" Raquel cocked one eyebrow at him, already working on unbuttoning his shirt, from bottom to top "Because you're sure as hell smelling like you did."

"Good to see your Detective skills aren't rusty, Inspectora Murillo." Sergio shook his head at her, leaning in so that she'd have better access to the damn little buttons she'd been about to pop off all over the place "I might have tried a sip or two, out of curiosity," he wrinkled his nose a little "and I believe it was enough of an disgusting experience for a lifetime, thank you very much."

"Hmm?" Raquel hummed, pulling at the open sides of his shirt to reveal Sergio's bare chest victoriously, at which he helped with a short laugh, shrugging them off once she tugged at the fabric impatiently "So you come to my bed tipsy, full of filthy intentions to catch me out of guard on lack of sleep…" she murmured, finally tossing the piece of clothing to the side aimlessly to slide her hands over his bare torso and ribs, smirking once he sucked into a harsh breath at the contact "...don't come complaining to me if your students end up hearing the things we'll do loud and clear later, Professor. You do _know_ how noisy you can get on a glass of wine…"

"My self restraint is _always_ sharp around my students, but thank you for your concern." Sergio rolled his eyes, leaning in so close the tip of his nose french kissed hers, his gaze resting shamelessly over her lips "As we have established on previous experiences before, though, _your_ dirty mouth might be in need of censoring my poor class about. But no worries, Inspectora, for I _am_ quite sober, enough to muffle your enthusiasm if things get too… _descriptive_, as they often tend to do."

"Really?" Raquel breathed, grinning against his mouth as Sergio hands drove south, underneath her t-shirt and up her belly, making her skin rouse in goosebumps "Because I remember things being the exact _opposite,_ in fact-"

Sergio swallowed her clever comeback all at once, his lips shocking almost aggressively against hers, making her moan between gulps of air. She nibbled at his bottom lip in revenge, her tongue battling his as her hands snuck up his back, her nails digging in satisfaction into his flash each time he'd grind his hips against hers in the most _outrageous_ friction, once in face of her cotton panties he was still pretty much dressed above her. That being noticed, her hands immediately flew to his belt, struggling with its seemingly suddenly almost doubled complexity as she felt Sergio unclasping her bra with expertise. Obviously planning on stripping all of her remaining clothes at once by pooling her shirt right underneath her breasts, he groaned against her lips before shifting his mouth_ and_ teeth to that sensitive spot on her neck that never failed on making her eyes roll to the back of her head, one hand already very much cupping her breast impatiently through the fabric on the way.

Raquel smirked once she finally managed to launch his belt somewhere onto the floor, losing no time unzipping Sergio free of the pants that restrained his very evident erection, coaxing a gasp out of both as she caressed his length briefly, somewhere between the hasty pulling and rustling of clothing that followed their eager movements until his damn pants too flew to pool on the ground by the bed. Leaning fully back over her, he kissed the throbbing pulse at her throat as Raquel grabbed a handful of his hair, the other having his shoulder on a death grip as she felt his fingers ghosting down her sides to hook her panties roughly down, helping her wriggle free as she used him to lift her waist, separing their bodies for a brief but endless second before their hips met again, blessedly bare.

Sergio groaned and Raquel gasped, her eyes fluttering closed at torture of feeling him _there_, but not quite inside her yet. Impatient, she sighed in approval to his kissing venturing the vale between breasts, but hissed in frustration when her moving suggestively against him only resulted on him holding her back down with a firm hand on her hip, continuing exploring her skin with a jackass smirk she could practically _sense_ there on his lips.

"Profesor, I really appreciate your teaching efforts," she growled by his ear, both hands grabbing around his nape "but if you don't move to the damn main lesson soon enough, your class will riot."

Sergio laughed against the hollow of her throat "You must've been quite the troublemakeron the class, Inspectora." he raised his head to grin at her, his pupils huge as hand drifted from her hip to rest over her belly button, making her suck into a harsh gasp "But you see, if you'd ever had a decent enough teacher in the past," he hummed, making his hand wander, down and down, agonizing slow towards south "you'd know very well a _passionate_ teaching experience cannot be hushed."

As he touched her exactly where she needed the most, Raquel arched her back off the bed, eyes closed and head rolling back as she let him prove he _might_ not have the worst point going on, shutting up for good. Soon enough though, suddenly _too soon,_ Sergio's fingers were out and grasping her legs to bring them around his waist, his chuckle breathless on her ear as she groaned a protest, his erection very much urgent pressed hard against her in explanation to why he practically ripped her blouse and bra through her head next, making Raquel laugh too once she fell back on the bed with a huff, smiling shamelessly at being finally naked in front of him.

"Class dismissed?" she asked mischievously, hands cupping both the sides of his face.

"Class dismissed." Sergio breathed, bending down to kiss the smirk off her face, swallowing her moan as he slid inside her in a single thrust.

"Hey, listen. I think all the booze finally knocked them out." Raquel murmured against Sergio's chest some time later, curled against his side, her eyelids already half closed as his hand drew lazy shapes between her shoulder blades, lulling her closer and closer to dozing off in the happy bubble of his arms. Besides the sound of their even breathing, they could hear how the entire house now fell into a relative silence but for the waves crashing outside, once _la banda_ finally seemed to have shut its nightly activities and scattered off to their respective rooms for the day.

She felt him smile against her hair "Well, let's hope whatever they decide to do in our guest bedrooms isn't any worse than what they were doing in the living room."

Raquel lifted her head to raise an eyebrow at him "Like the things _we_ were doing just a second ago, Profesor?"

Sergio grimaces, pushing the glasses he'd just put back in up his nose "Believe me, I've caught them in different states of embarrassing situations while we lived together before, Inspectora, and _none_ of it would be something I'd picture us doing in our free time without being traumatized for life."

"Really?" Raquel grinned, curious.

"Tokyo and Nairóbi are worse than teenagers." Sergio sighed, looking so much like the every bit of a father figure she'd imagine him being to the group of thieves Raquel chuckled against his neck. He glared at her obvious amusement at his expenses "What? Trust me, if you're not buying it now, just wait until we're all obliged into living a bedroom apart of them in the same space again. Then you'll see for yourself."

"Oh no, I'll leave all the surveilling and scolding for you, Profesor. Gladly. You've got more experience," she kissed him, pulling back with a hand automatically scratching his beard "and besides, I'm terrific at playing the Good Cop part."

"Throwing me at the wolves by consequence, then?" Sergio clicked his tongue at her, grinning, pushing her hair behind her ear with a soft look in his eyes "You're a mean partner, Inspectora…" he cut himself, hand freezing, frowning a little "Something's stuck on your hair."

"What?" Raquel turned, trying to take a peek as his fingers dug around the back of her head, searching her hair until he grabbed it, whatever it was, held it up and laughed soundly at sight of it "What is it?"

"If this were to be a magic trick, it couldn't be more perfectly timed." Sergio grinned, handing her the slightly crumpled red origami swan retrieved with a flourish and a head shake "It must've fell off my pants once you launched them all the way across the room…"

"I was only retribuying the favor you paid my underwear, Marquina." Raquel rolled her eyes at him, recording the consider amount of searching it took for her to conclude her panties must've disappeared into whatever alternative dimension he'd manage to throw them into. Turning the origami over in her hands, she smiled a little, attempting to smooth its wrinkled edges with her thumbs "So this is what you rather do, outside in the cold, instead of being warm here inside with me?" she cocked an eyebrow at him "If you want to brood, you might as well let me use you as a pillow while you do it, _Profesor_."

Sergio's eyebrows rouse "Oh, but how can you know I was brooding, Inspectora? I could've being simply enjoying the view…"

"It's the world's worst hidden secret you _origami_ while you trying to focus, Sergio." Raquel balanced the paper bird right above his chest, watching it rise and fall along his breathing, batting her eyelashes smugly at him "It's an endearing nervous tic, really. Incredibly telltaling, though."

"You've got me all figured out then, huh?" Sergio opened a quick smile, grabbing hold of the origami, then glanced sideways at her, sudden _nervous_, she could tell, when he used that same hand to push his glasses back up his nose, sighing "Did I ever tell you where this habit came from?"

Raquel shook her head, propping her chin onto his chest to watch him better, smiling encouragingly "No. But I'm all ears."

Sergio inhaled, hooking his arm around her back to squeeze her shoulder in way that made her scoot closer, draping a leg over his with a light frown creasing her brow as she waited for him to speak.

"My father taught me how to make these." he whispered, fidgeting with the red swan distractedly, a distant look in his eyes as he searched for his next words, clearly already lost in thought. Bearing a tight smile on his lips, he continued "He actually learned how to do origamis just so that he could teach me, in fact. It was back when I was still in the hospital, spending my time mostly getting overly anxious about which tests they'd run on me the next day, when he heard a nurse mention paper crafting helped some of the kids around the pediatric aisle to pass the time… The hospital staff would promote classes in the common playing room, for the children that wouldn't depend on machines 24/7 to participate." he glanced over at Raquel, his eyes a little sad "And when his trying to coax me into joining them didn't make me overcome my embarrassment over my condition's new developments on…" Sergio's hands shook the slightest as he adjusted his glasses "..._mobility_ issues, well, he went there and learn it himself, so that he could teach me a better coping mechanism than obsessively reading the same books, over and over again."

Raquel smiled softly and kissed his chest, ignoring how this rare mention of his illness tugged at her heart strings, knowing very well she'd have to wait until he'd be ready to give more details himself "He was a good father. He knew how to work you out of your shell."

"Ah, well, I was always a bit of a tough kid to work around," he smiled a little too self-deprecating for her taste, shrugging "_quirky_ to top my crippling social awkwardness, even before my disease started to develop initial symptoms… So my Father had the experience, I suppose. He knew the origaming would work like a charm on me, mostly because whenever I'd be faced with learning a new skill, I'd obsess so thoroughly over it I wouldn't have the time to worry while occupying myself with doing the task, whatever it was, to absolute perfection." Sergio sighed, a nostalgic look on his face "He'd sit by my bedside and we'd fold pieces of paper into different animals, over and over again, even between blood tests and the needless I'd have nightmares about… His origamis were always a little bit crooked, and he'd joke about how unfair it was he'd have his son beat him in paper crafting, even, when chess was already a game he'd be no match against me.

"It was ironic, really, how much I'd enjoy beating him, proving myself better, _smarter_ than him, Raquel." Sergio's smile disappeared, and without seeming to realize what he was doing, he slowly started to unfold the origami bird back into a square of paper as Raquel observed him, resisting a sudden need to stop his hands with her own "My father was usually, if not always, the smartest person in every room, and all I ever wanted was to be exactly like that. He knew that much, of course, and so he was sure I'd master everything he'd teach me, that I'd feel proud of my accomplishments… which weren't many, being that I had to quit school for good once my constant headaches were proved to be much more serious we'd initially thought, given that in order to stop my constant seizuring I'd need to be on a heavy drug treatment 24/7, queasy and trapped to a damn hospital bed all day long."

Unable to hold back any longer, Raquel covered his hand with her own, squeezing his knuckles "You never told me it was like that, so…" _terrifying,_ she mentally completed, swallowing dry rather than speaking it out loud, tearing up a little at the thought of how scared Sergio must've felt, being deprived of so much in such an early age. Of how desperate his father should've been, once being a mother had taught her that any parent would always suffer along their child, no matter what "You were lucky to have your father, that he'd know how exactly to take your mind out of being sick." she murmured, finally, blinking her tears away to muster a weak smile at Sergio's serious expression "He sounds like a good man. Wonderful parent, no doubt. I think… I think I'd like to have met him."

Sergio opened a tiny smile in response, nodding when her hand drifted to rest right above his heart "Yes, you would've. _He_ would've, too, you know." he eyed her, a little shy "He'd have a whole lot to say about me finally finding a woman to match my stubborn witts, no doubt."

Raquel laughed, shaking her head "He sounds like he and my mother would've have the best time going about each of our flaws, and how much _patience_ each of us would no doubt need to handle the other's complicated ways…"

Sergio rolled his eyes, fingers suddenly back to fidget with the piece of paper until he started a few hesitant new folds "Oh, yes, definitely. He'd find in your mother's no-nonsensical approach a close match to his own, believe me." his grin made another appearance, then, this time more genuine than sad "He would never let me have an easy time back then, you know, being a sick kid and all. He'd do his best to treat me like a normal boy, to give me some sort of a routine that went beyond nurses and doctors and being put into different machines for CT's that lead to nowhere at every week or so. He'd never let me suspect the lengths he'd went through just to afford the newest experimental drug treatments… And when both my mobility and cognitive abilities only worsened with time, he'd still make sure I'd have pieces of paper always at reach, once despite having a hard time writing and walking got me increasingly frustrated by day, I'd still manage to do origamis if I was careful and patient enough. As long as I could do this, he told me," he showed Raquel the partial folding between his fingers, his voice cracking slightly "I'd know my body would still be under my control."

"So you'd know there'd still be hope, that he'd make sure everything would be alright." Raquel whispered, cradling his face between her hands, feeling how tense his jaw tightened under her palms as she guided his gaze sorely into hers, so that he'd see the gratitude deep inside her eyes towards this father that sacrificed his life so that the love of her life could live and _love_ alongside her, today "He never gave up saving you, and he was right, of course. He made sure you were cured, and he made sure you actually _lived_ and knew how much you were loved while he fought to keep you alive." her lips trembled as she smiled, her eyes just as watery as his, glimmering softly behind the lens of his glasses as he heard her, his chest rising and falling hastily with each breath "That's it, you know. That's the kind of parent I aim to be to Paula as long as I'm around. That's the parent everyone deserves."

"Yes." Sergio whispered, nodding softly, blinking tears that got stuck to his lashes rather than being shed. He covered one of her hands with his, looking sad and fond and _dead_ _serious_, all of sudden "That's exactly the kind of parent you _are,_ Raquel. When I saw you and your daughter together for the first time, it was like a flashback. It was how I fit one more piece into the puzzle you were to me," he touched his forehead to hers, brushing his lips to hers "a discovery that made me realize your love for her would inevitably be part of why I was so incredibly fascinated by you. One more risk, to getting lost on everything about you." he smirked, slowly and impossibly sweeter, pushing away to better look at her now smiling, flushed face "To breaking my very first rule..."

"To falling in love." Raquel whispered, even though they never really needed to put things in terms such as this, even though they both surely felt the same without the need of saying it out loud— because suddenly, despite _knowing,_ she felt like _hearing_ the words coming out of his mouth, aside doing even greater things to her pounding heart, also wouldn't hurt at all.

"Ah, well… _That_, too." Sergio cleared his throat and blushed, adorably shy as he always got around feelings. His awkward smile, kissable in so many ways, flashed quickly before his hand went on a reflex to push his glasses back on place, as he inhaled, deeply, before nodding, a resolute light shining to his eyes "Definitely. I, well… I never really had a fighting chance." he shrugged " I _fell, _quite spectacularly. Head over heels."

Raquel smiled _wide_, pleased, pushing herself up to plant an open-mouthed kiss on his lips so eagerly Sergio chuckled into her mouth "We _both_ fell, Profesor." she nuzzled his beard, feeling happy and silly all over "We're both such great losers, for a teacher and a cop."

Sergio laughed again, shook his head. Then, most definitely blushing all over, he shrugged "Well, Inspectora, I wouldn't say you didn't win _anything_…" he gaped a little, before offering her the origami she never noticed him finishing, somehow folded into a brand new thing now. It was a red heart, folded perfectly there in her palm, so impossibly _sweet_ Raquel had to pinch her lips not to laugh at Sergio's pained grimace, as he struggled to let each cheesy word out, red like a tomato "You won my heart, after all."

No longer capable of holding her joy any longer, Raquel chuckled at his silliness, shaking her head and cradling his chin to his kiss his adorable vexed pout at being made fun off. Holding the origami heart safely close to her thumping own, she grinned like a teenager against his lips "You won my heart too, despite being too smooth for your own good. Thank God you're so shy, or else you'd be married by now."

Still flushed, Sergio's eyes were serious underneath all his overall awkwardness as he shrugged, exhaling "Well, I'm… I'm up for it whenever you are, Inspectora."

Raquel stopped, blinked. A little stunned, she tilted her head, knowing this man would never say or do anything unless he'd meant it with all his heart "I…" she found expectancy there in his face, her heart tightening a little as she searched her next words carefully "Ask me again some other day," she breathed, unsure "and we might have a deal, Profesor."

Sergio took in her words, silent for a heartbeat, before relaxing visibly, nodding his understandment. She knew he immediately got what she meant, as usual, that this was far from being a _no, _rather simply a _not today_,_ not right now..._

_Not when we're about to walk into a damn battlefield._

"Alright." he smiled, covering the hand that held his origami heart right above hers with his own "And when I ask, I'll make sure to bring a ring into negotiation this time."

Raquel answered him with a kiss, for there was no further saying needed between them, once more.

Their deal was inevitable, as it was her answer, already bound to be no other than _yes._


	3. “Sweet Sorrow”

"**Sweet Sorrow"**

Sergio couldn't quite breathe.

His lungs, it seemed, weren't properly coordinating to their usually simple function anymore. It took him a great deal of thinking to perform the suddenly tricky task of inhaling and exhaling, in fact, than he'd ever thought to be possible before. Sweating, curled slightly on the passenger seat of the accelerating RV after long ago getting rid of his tie in search of some relief, Sergio felt growingly suffocated, claustrophobic, and strangely _numb_ all at once.

There were tear tracks still drying on his cheeks, that despite having been swept off obsessively with shaky fingers from underneath his glasses, kept stubbornly flooding his vision and escaping down the corners of his eyes faster he could ever wipe, and so he gave up, turning towards the window in lieu of keeping some illusion of privacy from Marsella's taciturn presence on the driver seat. The man had come to him nearly two hours later, long after all patrols cars stormed off the forest area in which he'd hidden. When soon as Sergio had climbed rather weakly down his tree to land on wobbly feet, in such a blurry vision he'd have no sense of depth any longer, he'd nearly fell onto his knees immediately, _again,_ if not for Marsella's arms grabbing and practically carrying him out that site before he'd stumble completely apart.

Which he did, though he had very little memory of it, as soon as the other man tossed him rather perceptively onto the back seat as he started shaking, closed all doors and drove off without sparing Sergio— _Professor,_ to him, he'd only ever been Sergio in this madness of a plan to _her,_ truth be told— a second look until they were mostly out of the danger zone for sure.

Once Marsella glanced behind himself, though, he found out he'd probably shouldn't've, and regretted having caught a glimpse of Professor in his misery immediately on sight, promptly averting his gaze back to the road ahead. There was little he could do not to be uncomfortably aware he was currently in charged with the safety of the very mastermind of this plan, though, his _leader, _who seemed out of commission for good and very acutely alike to a frightened puppy he'd once retrieved from the wreckage aftermath of a bomb, back at his war days— pathetic and traumatized for life, the puppy had died rather quickly from refusing to eat, which didn't sound promising at all. Marsella shifted on his seat at the memory, unsure of how to deal with having the leader of this group falling apart on his back seat, when he of all people was only ever good at following orders but couldn't grasp the prospect of not having anyone telling him whatever exactly he'd need to do, and how to do so, in very _specific_ details as he was already used to with Professor himself.

Pale and shaking and crying, although silently for the most, Sergio had curled around himself into this vague shape of a man, laying on his side like a little kid with his hands pressed tightly to his ears, his eyes closed shut behind crooked glasses as if to keep all the monsters away, completely blind and deaf to the couple times Marsella tried calling him out along the way.

Despite not being particularly interested in other people, less even their business, Marsella wasn't stupid enough to not be able to put two and two together and guess Lisboa's absence meant no good, at all, and that whatever had been made of her had messed with his leader's buttons for good. As he drove them towards the safe house, Marsella was already weighting, in his usual lack of compassion fashion, how well should it bode if he'd attempt threatening some sense back into Professor's head— which they simply couldn't afford being shut down, not with the damn madness the rest of the team was facing inside the bank right now.

Marsella was surprised, though, once he pulled by the small warehouse designed for their safe house and glanced at the rearview mirror to find Professor already sitting up, somewhat recomposed as he cleaned his glasses using one end of his suit, hands shaking badly as he'd wipe any traces of crying from his cheeks carefully, any lasting emotion carefully removed from his features. Was it then that the man made eye contact with him, for the very first time since Marsella had come to his rescue. Showing gloomy irises almost pitch black, a dull shine that even though teary spoke volumes on violence and hatred, Professor had the look of a warrior about him— a look Marsella recognized for having displayed it many times himself, although the stiff restraint that man showed felt to him suddenly frightening and very unsettlingly alike the looks of a predator, unpredictable as in more than a simple revenge desire could ever bode.

"I believe we'll need the guns right now." Professor spoke, rather suddenly, although his voice sounded even quieter as he put back his glasses and cleared his throat after a moment of pause "The bulletproof vests too, I suppose." he looked up at Marsella after pushing his glasses up his nose, head tilted to the side "You shall wear one every day, no matter what. We can't afford any more casualties right now."

And Marsella nodded, for he could handle that. Having clear orders reassured him, even if Professor's behavior did the opposite, and so he dropped his worries with the ease only a war mercenary could, immediately, prepared to die any other day to come as he was always prone to be. He and Professor popped the doors open and followed outside in absolute silence, the second seeming to have regained complete control of his legs and trembling hands as they opened the metal doors to the storage and got inside, flicking the lights on and looking around for everything they'd need to take on their next change of vehicles intended.

The RV occupied most of the room, like Professor's abandoned one had in another very similar storage many hours before, and so the man stood— much to Marsella's utter abstraction as he shuffled straightforwardly for the carefully stashed bags of supplies ands clothes around the place— silent and practically unblinking as he drank into the sight of the twin vehicle to the one he'd shared with Raquel in the days before, recording sharing the same warm bed, eating and showering and planning together with the woman he loved while holding his breath and listening to the painful pounding of his heart. It occurred at Sergio for the hundredth time that day that they should've simply taken the home on wheels into that road trip she'd so enthusiastically suggested, to someplace else beautiful enough to make her amazed, a romantic spot that'd perhaps kick enough courage in him to finally kneel and unpocket that ring he'd been carrying around for her over nearly three months now.

As long as they'd be together and far away as possible from this hellish reality, it'd be worthy, all the others and their freedom and their fucking _gold_ be damned, blown to the airs like the policemen the radio news informed him of his orders outcome not so long ago.

Closing his eyes, Sergio took a deep inhale of air, releasing it calmly through his nose, in attempts of slowly down his pounding heartbeats to a pace that didn't make him dizzy on his feet and so damn near to a panic attack as he felt right now. But even this calming process was trimmed in Raquel's presence, the memory of the many times they'd practice breathing control together, holding each other's hands while sitting face to face underneath the warm sun, still so vivid he almost felt the silk and familiarity of her touch, as if invisible hands cradled his face the way she used to whenever he'd attempt avoiding eye contact for too long, bringing his gaze to find love and fierceness inside her brown chocolate ones.

"_Don't worry, Cariño", _Sergio heard the impossible sound of her voice at the back of his mind, real enough for him to picture her leaning into his shoulder, tiptoeing like always, her smiling lips full of confidence and reassurance as she'd whisper by his ear "_We'll work this through, together. Everything will be alright."_

Except it wouldn't, ever again. Except they weren't together anymore, nor would ever be.

Except, she was _dead._

Raquel was gone.

Sergio's eyes snapped open, all his efforts into calming down fleeting in useless shreds behind himself as he launched into hasty steps, each growing more unstable than the previous, his legs wobbling weakly as he made around the RV leaning heavily on its side, short of breath, barely making through the vehicle's door before his knees finally buckled beneath himself. He stumbled inside, half falling forward and closing the door by dropping his body staggering against it, hyperventilating onto his hands and knees over the carpeted floor. Perspiration shone to his temples as he grabbed his shirt where his heart seemed to be trying to claw its way out through, his breathing wheezing poorly inside his burning lungs, his vision blurred through both flooding tears and the loss of his glasses, that had slid down his nose and laid fallen on the floor, as the endless terrifying sound of _gunshots_ replayed inside his head over and over again, nonstop.

He thought he could throw up, then, if he'd have anything in his stomach to expel at all. He did retch plenty though, making gagging and moaning sounds that soon brought Marsella's fist pounding to the RV's door, alarmed "Profesor, is everything alright in there?"

Swallowing convulsively, Sergio shook his head, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes to contain the stream of tears flooding out. No, nothing was alright, nothing could ever be _right_ once again—

"Yes. I'm… I'm alright." he shouted back, or tried to, in a shaky tone that sounded anything _but_ fine and came out muffled as a whimper through his trembling lips. Clearing his throat, he braced himself, trying again "I'm fine, Marsella. Just... make sure everything is on place, all equipment in good function. Pack as many ammunition you can. I'll be… I'll be out soon."

"Alright." Marsella sounded anything but convinced, but soon enough and he left, the sound of his steps shuffling away.

Sergio relieved a sigh, picked up his glasses with such badly shaking hands he tried thrice before putting them on, using the seat of the vehicle's inside table set to pull himself up, wiping his wet cheeks aimlessly on his sleeve as he tried to catch his breath. Gulping air in big gasps, he struggled with his jacket until it fell to the floor, moving hastily forward, stumbling half bent over the seat as he tried to put his mingled thoughts back together somehow. When his roaming gaze fell over the two go-bags left over the compact kitchen counter, though, he felt blood rise rushing in his ears as he recognised the blue one in which Raquel had packed some clothes and emergencial belongings to a possible escape for herself, set aside the one he'd packed for himself.

Sergio stumbled towards it, features pale as a ghost's as he went for immediately unzipping Raquel's one frantically, his mouth twisting in a pained line as he dug his hands inside to find a few of her favorite clothes neatly folded, flooded in her perfume and all the memories he couldn't fight back. Eyes closing, he pressed a few oversized t-shirts to his cheek, the ones she'd preferred sleeping into overnight, overwhelmed into the scent of her favorite soap brand and the orange shampoo that still clung to the fabric same as he did it himself.

He eyed the white long sleeved shirt still inside the bag with a gulp, immediately dropping the clothes he'd held in favor of grabbing it, rubbing his thumbs over the silk as the lump stuck to his throat grew and grew, as if about to choke him to death. She'd stolen this shirt from him perhaps about an year ago without the least bit of shame, and Sergio would always know whenever he'd behaved specially well as she'd wear it, and _nothing_ _else,_ to sleep at night. Its fabric had an irregular light stain of a light color around the collar, from a sunny day in which their attempted dinner setting on the makeshift cushion bed of their filthy little boat had ended up in laughing kisses and that awful cider bottle Raquel had made him bought— adamant on building thoroughly _good_ memories over the mixed ones from their past— half spilled all over each other even before they got to actually drink any of it. A stain that, despite never coming off after several washes, apparently made, in Raquel's cheesy view, the shirt into her very new_ favorite _somehow.

Closing his eyes, Sergio allowed the memory of their shared laughter flood his senses, a weak little smile twitching his lips as he recorded the feel of her warm body between his arms so vividly his heartbeats pounded against his ribs, holding his breath as he reminisced feeling that sweet tension inside his stomach that usually came with _needing _Raquel so badly he'd oversee the whole damn boat setting on fire as long as he'd have her mouth at reach.

Remembering what it felt like touching her, breathing in her scent, listening to her _heartbeats._ Every aspect of loving and being loved so thoroughly by her, of falling in love so hard and instantly his so called genius brain turned completely clueless on the depths of his feelings until he'd have no other choice but to love that beautiful strong woman till the end, his twenty-year-old plan be damned and all. Sergio remembered what was like to have Raquel within arms reach, to watch her, alive and laughing and teasing, fierce to her very bone marrow, so much more admirable, _worthy_ than he'd ever dream of being, a loving daughter and mother that'd go, _had _been through hell for her family and would've endured a hundred times worst if it'd come to it…

… and he felt _old_, suddenly, so very much older than his forty-five years of pseudo-living could bear, as his anger rouse twice as stronger inside his chest compared to the aftermath of his father's death. He felt his old vengeance desire creeping to the surface with unsurprising ease, almost like a physical thing, this clutcher he'd already been used to hold onto for dear life that now felt like a hundred-pound weight pulling him down the ocean bottom he'd happily grab onto till the end.

He imagined Paula, then, and his eyes snapped open, red and shining with unshed tears. The shirt slid from his fingers, fell on the table, and Sergio grasped the seat so hard his knuckles turned white, numb, imagining himself seating that bright little girl down to stare inside her clever brown eyes and let her know her mother _died,_ that her grandmother, who could no longer hold a proper conversation without being dragged so many years back into her past, wasn't a mother any longer but would never quite understand the magnitude of her daughter's absence at all— because life wasn't fair, and the things you'd love would always be taken away first.

Once again, Sergio exhaled. Very slowly, through his nose, the way his father had taught him to so many years ago, when controlling his breathing properly meant independence from an oxygen mask for a little bit longer, holding back his recurrent panic attacks from only imagining what being trapped in a hospital bed with a respirator piper stuck down his throat for the rest of his young life would've felt like. He released his grip onto the seat gradually, letting that biological control fool his emotions for the time being, allowing his heartbeats to slow down as his thought process refined to that very specific, clinical state of mind he'd force himself into before a chess match or the careful execution of a plan, when whatever he felt didn't matter at all, nor would have any sort of _use_ to the task he'd have to perform ahead.

Looking down at the open duffel bag in front of him, he searched for the bundle he knew it'd be inside, wrapped tightly into an old towel, which he took out and laid on the table to pull the fabric aside and reveal the gun and magazine packed inside. It was a Glock, Raquel's personal choice for a backup sidearm, that Sergio weighted in his hand recording how hard she'd tried to dissuade him into packing a similar weapon for himself, begging that he'd have the least bit of _common sense_ of realizing they'd need any resource at hand to protect themselves for the trial ahead, and stop being such a bullheaded of a man all the damn time. He smiled tightly while inserting the magazine on with an expertise he'd rarely display around fire weapons, imagining how hard of a time she'd give him if she'd been there by his side, watching him admit she was right all along— not an exception to how any discussion would usually turn out in their relationship, being fair enough. Being aware of the weight of the loaded gun, however, added a new sense of dread to his pain he did not expect, and his smile faded quickly, for having the weapon in his grip felt so odd and at the same time so _familiar_ he had to resist the need to set it down and step away almost immediately.

He did not like guns. He'd told Raquel why, not so many nights ago, when at the brink of initiating the heist she'd finally asked him that much, clever enough to catch him unguarded in a lazy morning as they laid, naked and entwined and quite _content_ in each other's arms. He'd then told her of his many foster homes after his father's death, when Berlim was cities away and still very much a teenager being tossed around his biological father's family, having lost the father he'd chosen by heart and that they both had lost, and how poorly he'd adapted to each of the families that'd taken him in. In this particular home, perhaps the third or the fourth on a row, he'd be faced with a foster dad who was not satisfied with having a boy too fond of reading and barely talkative, a man that'd love hunting for sport and soon became adamant in making the kid more manly by dragging him along into the forest as well.

Twelve-year-old Sergio had been entrusted to a hunting rifle almost his size, a monster fire weapon he'd at first been terrified of, then belatedly, after much being pressured into repeating the task of loading the gun enough times to make his small fingers hurt and numb, realized himself quite competent in shooting off a bunch of soda cans for a boy who wore thick glasses and could barely hold the shotgun barrel above the ground on his own. He'd never been prepared for the actual _hunting_ part of the activity, however, which involved killing and skinning something alive for that matter— and when he'd failed quite purposefully in shooting at a clueless deer far ahead, he'd never really expected his foster dad to strike the animal down with a precise shot to its middle, successfully causing it to stumble on its side but didn't killing it right away. No, the deer was still very much alive as the foster dad dragged a struggling Sergio by the arm close enough to see it breathless, squirming and thrusting its limbs in the bloody mess of leaves and _guts_ spread everywhere around their feet. The boy had seen its wide-eyes rolling backwards in pain and immediately bursted into tears— which didn't dissuade his foster dad from ordering he'd take the mercy shot to the animal's head, nor from promising they'd leave it there for more bleeding and suffering until it'd die on its own, if he didn't do as said.

And so Sergio took the shot that traumatized him for life from any fire weapons, regretting bitterly never being able to summon enough guts to shoot the man standing besides him instead, many times over in the couple years that'd follow ahead— for his foster dad had as strong of a liking for his booze as he'd have towards his guns, which he'd often use to terrorize the household whenever he'd decide using his fists was no longer worth breaking a sweat.

Sergio remembered Raquel's wrath on his behalf, of how gently she'd cradled his face in her hands, the fierce and _hurt_ look shining inside her loving brown eyes telling him how deeply she understood of what he'd been through; of how she'd touched her forehead to his in that intimate gesture of theirs, murmuring how she wished she could protect the child he'd once been from all the harm in the world softly against his lips. And he flexed his fingers around the gun, the sweet _sweet_ memory of her presence flowing through his veins like poison and medicine at the very same time, his chest aching like he'd never felt before, features crumpling tightly as he pressed his fingers to his eyes _hard,_ trying to somewhat contain the flooding emotions threatening to burst him in half from the inside.

Marsella's knock at the RV's door made him jump, his conscience wavering poorly back to reality as he attempted recomposing himself before gingerly reaching for the handle. Oddly glad that the mercenary stared him down with nothing but apathetic professionalism before he walked in, despite his obvious bloodshot eyes and shaky stance, Sergio motioned where the bags he carried along should be dropped and put himself on the move for the hidden spot where they kept the vehicle's keys, tossing them into the other man's waiting hands with a nod.

"You'll come with me halfway there, then we'll split apart." Sergio quickly briefed, tucking the Glock at the back of his pants and going for his own duffel bag in search of a suitable suit jacket mechanically— as half of the job of looking confident and composed, Berlim would say, was pretending and _acting_ until you'd manage to actually pull it through "The plastic explosives are kept at the back." he absently informed Marsella, while making a practical job out of shrugging off his shirt that still smelled of forest and sweat and sliding a clean one on, buttoning it up and working on his tie with the deft fingers of a control freak on autopilot "Leave me enough for any last time diversion, but make sure you take all of the rest. The drones and tracking devices too…" pausing while Marsella made approving noises while shuffling through the hidden bags kept at the back of the vehicle, taking count of the many plastic explosives ready to for use, Sergio purposefully avoided staring down at himself fully dressed in this familiar work attire that now felt as strange as the whole facade he was trying to hold, pushed his glasses to the top of his nose and carefully detached himself from his mixed feelings, pensive.

"Actually, take a couple more burner phones too, a few of the numbers I'll use for the next contacts with the police tent." his voice sounded odd to his own ears, monotonous, but still he kept up— _fake it until you make it, little brother._ Yes, he could do that "They could come to be useful for some misdirecting, if it'd ever come to down to it."

"Understood." Marsella got up from his knees and turned at him, nodding "What's the plan here, Profesor? How are we gonna help the rest of the crew?"

Sergio smiled a little. It was faint, _fake,_ and a little bit cold— one of his old times smiles, polite but emotionless as he'd barely understand these social conventions and rarely feel like smiling truly at all, as an occasional rule.

"We're officially in DEFCON 1, first stage." he declared, features relaxing into a stoic mask "So I suppose it's about time I make myself a worthy distraction, in order to give our comrades some freedom to work it through."

"You're going inside." Marsella sounded impressed, which was rare. Although he had every reason to be, for this was a last resource even Raquel had been wary off when he'd first brought it up, insecure on the prospect of possibly becoming the main leader on the outside in occasion he'd need to infiltrate himself within the bank.

"Yes." Sergio nodded, slowly, feeling surer as he spoke it out loud "But first, I need to pay Nairóbi a visit in the hospital. Once she's safely secured," his hand flashed to push his glasses upwards, fast and just the slightest trembling, before he proceeded, his voice quiet "we'll put the plan in motion, stages 1 and 2."

Nairóbi's current state was estable, as last time they'd gotten a grasp of information through the police radios she'd been just out of the surgery table with a severed pulmonary artery and a nearly collapsed lung repaired— the blood loss had been significant, definitely life threatening, and if the crew hadn't administered first aids on site the outcome of Inspector Sierra's orders would've most likely become a success, for sure. Nairóbi had made the news while being taken outside the bank by two hostages nearly half an hour after being shot, unconscious and bleeding profusely, due to a decision Sergio himself had made despite Tokyo's and Helsinki's strong protests that their companion would've never choose her life at the cost of ending up thrown at a damn prison cell for the rest of it— but ever since one can't be rescued if they're _dead_, which had been his chilling answer, none of them had a better argument to offer, and so they allowed the ambulances and screaming police vehicles to take their friend away.

And she lived. For the time being, that was it. It'd be Sergio's task to make sure she'd be _free_ to fight and resist her injures in the following hours ahead, and perhaps even live to see the outcome of their declared war to the whole goddamn Spain herself.

Crazy as it might sound, impossible even, Sergio new deep to his core Raquel would've supported that plan. In fact, she'd very likely tag along with him despite whatever protests he'd have to offer, in order to make sure he didn't put his life beyond strictly necessary risks, the way she seemed to fear he was constantly prone to be— assuring that he'd keep himself safe, when all of the stories he'd have to share about his first heist had horrified her enough into believing he'd only hadn't killed himself off by pure dumb luck, about a dozen times in a row.

_I'm so sorry, Raquel,_ he thought, his sad resilience taking the best of himself,_ but I can't promise my safety will be a priority anymore._ He felt so stupid for ever thinking it'd make so much more easier for him to risk his life without having her by his side— at first, that was good half of the reason why he'd wished so fervently she'd never be a part of this mess to begin with— but now, as her family had slowly but surely sneaked up on him in so much more affection he'd ever thought himself capable of showing, Sergio felt his life was no longer only his to spare. Not when the mere thought of all the pain Paula would have to endure over her mother's loss, all by _herself_, was already impossible to bear on its own. Without mentioning Marivi, that sweet resilient woman struggling not to get lost inside her own mind, that'd deserved someone to take care of her exactly the way her daughter would've wished they'd do.

But there was no way he'd be capable of assuring he'd walk alive by the end of this, he knew. Being ensured with his crew, his _family_'s lives meant his own was spearable as long as it wouldn't compromise their final success. As for Raquel's— _their_ family, all he could do was hope the precautions he'd taken beforehand would guarantee their safety and good care, that his will would not only transfer the numbers on his several bank accounts and his every belonging to them but his love, as well.

For if he'd die, he'd rather die with a sense of fulfilled duty in mind. And if instead of disappearing into nothingness he'd by some chance transcend to somewhere else where he'd be lucky enough to ever see her again, then he dared say he'd die a _happy _man.

But he was too small of a man not to need to get his revenge first.

"Make sure to ditch the rubber ammunition first, would you." Sergio instructed Marsella, whose ready expression told him he'd be already expecting this outcome "There's no longer need for us to avoid taking lives anymore. We've declared war and we shall act to match our enemies every action," he lowered his voice, ignoring the flash of sad brown eyes crossing his mind "so from now on it's an eye for an eye. We'll retaliate wherever the damage's the most."

"We're adapting DEFCON 1," he breathed, heartbeats pounding violently in anticipation "and we're going to win."

Because he was sure this was the only match in which he'd ever win by the sacrifice of the king himself.


End file.
